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Best Stories on the Web
 
All genres, all writers, all here.

Here, on Short-Story.me we publish only the highest quality stories from great writers around the world. To have work published on Short-Story.me is testament to the finest writing ability. Once published, we share your success with others and give good writing, great publicity. The site receives in excess of 300,000 page views per month and is the number one site on search engines for various genres.

We have a category for everyone. So why not sharpen your skills, your pencil and your wits and commit that story to paper? Give our followers what they want to read and get your name in front of thousands of readers every week.

Best of luck in your writing endeavors.

 

Never Trust a Flower

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Halfway through an arboretum, Robert Palmer encountered an odd looking plant around six feet tall surrounded by high grass. Its uppermost leaves were tightly clustered around what Robert guessed was a flower. Although he’d never seen anything like it before, something stirred in the back of his mind and wouldn’t let go. He shrugged and slowly started to go past the plant. At that moment its upper leaves opened up to reveal a face of sorts with dark blue eyes, no nose, but a slit of a mouth. Then it said in strongly accented English, “Hello, Mister. If you aren’t too busy would you like to go on a trip?”

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A Walk in the Park

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Leah was lonely, not the sad kind of lonely where she thought about suicide or filling her home with stray cats, but lonely nonetheless. This time of the year with all the festivities only reminded her that she was alone, that there was nobody special in her life. At least she had work, she was kept busy and would return home tired and worn out, but it was time spent in the company of others.

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I Never Eat Pizza

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Adam Carr and Phil Dunn, both physicists, sat at a table in the university cafeteria eating lunch. Adam enjoyed a hamburger while listening to Phil. “Adam, reputable physicists believe that there are many parallel worlds, worlds where there are other Adam Carrs.”

“What they believe and what they can prove are two different things. I think their imaginations are looking for something to dream about. Wishful thinking, that’s all.”

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Deja Vue

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The old red brick Victorian house at 134 Hillside Avenue in Meadville was much like any other turn of the century home in western Pennsylvania.  The former Kalamaras family home was now in a state of decline.  Marge Kalamaras, a single mother, had once raised her twin sons, Mike and Jesse, in the modest home.  Identical twins, Mike and Jesse were almost impossible to tell apart.  Only Marge could reliably tell the two boys apart whenever the twins were together. 

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Truth in Advertising

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This isn’t a story about two sisters after the same man.  It’s a story about the same man after two sisters.

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Sierra Tango Yankee X-Ray

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The water gleamed like dull steel beneath the moonlight, rippling softly against the creaking wooden boat. He was tempted to touch it, to swirl his hand through the inky lake, but something held him back. He feared it would feel like oil, slick and viscous between his fingers, as though its fathomless depths were choked with the decay of long dead creatures.

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Sand and Serpent

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The carriage stops suddenly, startling Inlan from sleep. Will strokes her hand reassuringly and she forces a smile, before laying her cheek against his shoulder. Two weeks ago her dark hair smelled like raspberries; now it stinks of the desert. On the bench opposite, Nurak absently fingers his snake-crested ring, and grins as he catches Will watching, showing the yellow teeth between his sharp, black beard. He has the same dark eyes as Inlan; the same sandy-colored face; but his skin is leathery (not soft like her’s) and his brow is thick and his nose large and crooked, hovering above his mouth like the rim of the top-hat over his forehead.

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Queen of the Leprechauns

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Ellen Gable, an advertising executive, arrived home from work later than usual.  “Hi, honey,” her husband, Dale, said, went to her and hugged her.  “Did you have a rough day?”

“Not too bad.  How about you?”

“There were kids, lots and lots of kids who needed shots and physicals before going to camp.  Come sit down. I made spaghetti and meat balls and garlic bread. Speaking of kids, how’s our baby?

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